


Shoulder Pains

by HollyKasakabe



Series: Tumblr Requests [8]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: 2.2K, 2nd POV, 2nd Person, Cute, F/M, Fluff, HollyKasakabe, Mild Injury, Reader-Insert, Tumblr request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9828830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyKasakabe/pseuds/HollyKasakabe
Summary: Request: Can I get a oneshot with Morgan from Criminal Minds? Shy, bookworm, Behavioral analyst, who is cousins with Spencer, and is so quiet, she doesn’t have the nerve to tell Morgan she likes him. Happy Ending!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Y/N - Your Name  
> Y/N/N - Your Nickname

"Ow," you mumbled after poking at the bandage over your shoulder.

You waited for a few seconds, glanced at the doorway, and then poked the bandaging again.

"Ow," you announced, scowling at your shoulder for what you took as a personal attack.

A low voice chuckled, reverberating around the room and vibrating in your chest. You knew that voice, and it belonged to one of your favoritest people in the entire world. With wide eyes, you turned your head around to the other side of the hospital bed. Derek Morgan sat forward on the edge of his chair, eyes gleaming with pleasure as he reached for you.

You forgot entirely about your injured shoulder in favor of his attention. "Hey!" You muttered to him. He took your uninured arm and guided it back down to your side.

"Good to see you awake, baby," Derek laughed at you, smoothing down the sleeve of your hospital gown over your upper arm. He patted your forearm. "You've had us all worried for a while."

He didn't say himself specifically, but you weren't an idiot. You could read into it. And, in your mind – which was hazy with painkillers and anesthetics from your recent emergency surgical operation – that was practically a confession of love.

"I'm sorry," you apologized fervently, already having to struggle to keep your eyes open.

Derek kept stroking his large hand down over your arm, squeezing your upper arm kindly and rubbing down your inner elbow, pushing your wrist to the mattress when you moved to take his hand. "You just pay us back by getting some rest, baby girl. You deserve it."

Tiredly, you stretched your jaw in a yawn. "You be here later?" You asked, shifting back into the blankets with most of your weight transitioning to your right side, taking some of the pressure off of your bound and wrapped shoulder.

"I promise. And if I'm not right in this room, just tell Reid to run and come get me." Derek soothingly vowed, continuing to stroke your arm while you quickly dropped back off into unconsciousness.

* * *

You thumped your head down on your pillows, but you didn't get a concussion. Unfortunately. Disappearing into the dark abyss would've been greatly appreciated right about then, while your brother sat in the chair Derek had formerly occupied and chuckled at your predicament. The scrawny little pest found the situation hilarious. It had been a long time since you'd last wanted to pull his hair, but you were getting the urge again. Unfortunately, he had moved the chair over to the left side of the hospital bed, so you couldn't reach, what with your arm being stitched up in a sling.

"This isn't funny," you grumbled, crossing your one good arm across your chest petulantly.

Spencer nodded wordlessly, giggling down to his lap. You rolled your eyes. At three years older than you, Spencer had been your caretaker for most of your life, since he'd been in middle school and you'd been somewhere between the third and fourth grade. The transition was gradual; as your mother gradually lost her mind to schizophrenia, and your father up and ditched you both, Spencer and you became each other's best friends and raised each other.

"No, it's not." Spencer tried to say, but he was still grinning at you boyishly, fringe falling into his eyes. You scowled. His lie was about as transparent as the excuse he gave Hotch about being cleared to fly after being shot by "a doctor's opinion," said doctor being himself. He stopped even trying to master his poker face and outright laughed. "Yes, it is."

Your painkillers had worn off and been replaced with medicine less potent. Things were a lot less funny to you, and Spencer seemed less like a lovable companion and more like a pest that needed a shoe chucked at his chest. Unfortunately, your shoes were on the floor, which seemed like an insurmountable distance away from either of your hands.

"Thanks for laughing, bro. I'm feeling more pain than I am love."

Spencer always knew when you were trying to guilt trip him, so it rarely worked. Still, he had the decency to pretend to be humbled. "It's not like it hurt anything," he reasoned. You hated when he did that; sounded all calm and collected and made you feel like you were overreacting or reading too far into something. He never did it on purpose, but you just weren't empirical like he was. "He's still bringing you Ben and Jerry's."

"Yeah, and carnations," a familiar voice piped up by the door, coming in through the ajar doorway, a plastic bag from the grocery store hanging from his arm while he carried a bouquet of get well flowers wrapped in plastic.

You and Spencer both appropriately cooed and admired the flowers at the right times, both to be polite and to save yourselves from having questions asked about the exchange Derek had walked in on.

The third FBI agent turned around with his hands in loose fists on his hips. "So, what didn't hurt anything?"

You turned bright pink. You'd never been shy around Spencer. He'd been around your whole life, and you'd done so many embarrassing things around him – from falling up the stairs, to breaking your wrist trying to play Quidditch after he read you _Harry Potter,_ to walking face-first into a telephone pole because a cute boy who lived next door talked to you – that it was hard to be less than comfortable around him. You doubted you'd reach a lower point than when you'd… well, that was in the past, and you'd rather not think about it. Everyone did dumb things in high school.

Derek, however, was another story. Not only had it taken you a long time to warm up to the warmly paternal Rossi and the sisterly and outgoing affection of Garcia, but you'd been intimidated by Derek when you met him. He looked like he could kill a guy with his bare hands. You soon learned that he was as gentle as anyone could be (unless you were an un-sub), and you became friends… albeit you remained soft-spoken and meek, considering that you had quickly gone over the moon for the profiler.

"Nothing," both Reid siblings chimed simultaneously, giving Derek equally wide-eyed looks of innocence. He narrowed his eyes at you both and pointed between you, slowly shaking his head. He wasn't buying it.

* * *

" _Eeeeeek!"_

Well, you reflected, while you braced yourself for impact, holding up your right shoulder and covering your sling with your right arm, protectively moving it to the side so that Garcia wouldn't send you right back to the hospital, you knew at least one person whom had missed you during your medical leave.

"Careful!" Spencer squeaked indignantly, fielding away Garcia's deceptively strong arms from your sling while she squeezed with an arm around your throat. You giggled.

"My baby's back," Garcia breathlessly cheered, taking a step back and looking you up and down. "Oh, my baby's back! Yes!" You smiled tiredly. It was hard to comfortably sleep with a still-healing bullet wound in your shoulder, but you were ready to come back to work. Hopefully the cases would exhaust you into a good night's rest. "Jayje!" Garcia leaned back to yell across the bullpen. "The baby's back!"

"Just because I'm the youngest, doesn't mean you have to call me the baby," you complained halfheartedly. Garcia was going to call you whatever she wanted, and you all knew it.

"There she is!" Derek and Hotch both had to look over the railing of the mezzanine at the techie's cry. Hotch smiled welcomingly at you while they spoke outside of his private office, and Derek gave you a wide, handsome smile, blowing you a flirty kiss.

Spencer wrapped a long arm around you carefully while you looked down and studied your shoes, your face flaming red, and led you over to the kitchenette to collect some coffee. No one got between the Reids and their coffee. In fact, Anderson even made you your usual brew as a welcoming present.

* * *

"It's no fair, Kate," you sighed mournfully, sitting at the female profiler's kitchen counter after a sleepover with her and Meg. Despite being over ten years younger than you, Kate's niece was a neat girl, and you spent a lot of time with Meg so that Kate could socialize without leaving her adopted child unattended for long hours.

"Neither was that card game. I swear that girl cheated," Kate confided.

From the next room, the TV quieted into a lull. _"I didn't cheat!"_ Meg called back loudly before she returned the volume to its original strength. You and Kate both chuckled.

"I know he cares about me, but he treats me differently than the girls we meet out of town." You stirred a spoon in your coffee, mixing in the sugar and cream to the piping hot mug. A chubby, distorted reflection of your face looked up at you from your drink. "He flirts with them and then with me he just… he kind of… calls me pretty and winks a lot."

"Well, Y/N/N, I don't know if you've noticed, but he cares about Garcia, JJ, and me too, but he doesn't make a habit of winking at us." The brunette pulled up a chair and sipped at her coffee contemplatively.

Your shoulders fell. Your sling had come off just under a month ago, and yet Spencer still insisted on sneaking a bottle of OTC painkillers into your handbag whenever you went somewhere. For the most part, you were healed up. Your only restrictions were that you weren't supposed to use that arm to lift things that were more than twenty pounds until your next appointment at the orthopedic clinic.

"You see how he likes to prank Spence," you said his name affectionately, even as you reminisced on how annoying it sometimes was to have to doubt your crush's actions because of your older brother. "And I _did_ tell you about what Spence did when my prom date ditched me. Maybe he's just doing it to bother Reid the First." Having been working with the BAU longer than you, Spencer had earned the title "the First" while you got to lay claim to "the Second."

"Come on," Kate chided, putting her coffee down. "You know him better than that. You know them _both_ better than that." Kate stared at your eyes, scolding and friendly in equal measure. She really had the parenting thing down. "But if you're really that unsure, maybe you should just… ask him?" She suggested delicately, rolling her eyes even as she proposed the idea.

She knew you would balk, and balk you did, pushing away your coffee and crossing your arms carefully. Your head shook fervently. "Nuh-uh. Nope. Not happening."

Kate dropped her head, stared at her countertop for a few seconds, and took a deep breath. You sat a little straighter, sensing some serious advice coming your way, when you were interrupted.

 _"_ _Kate!"_ Meg yelled from the living room. _"Y/N! Can someone help me with my trig homework?"_

"I've got it," you sighed when Kate looked at you, apologetic for her niece interrupting your conversation. "As many hours as I spent with Spencer helping me, I ought to be passable at trig by now."

* * *

"Yikes," you gasped, panting, as you and Derek both looked towards the pool. The surface rippled and sloshed, and you held your formerly injured shoulder tightly out of paranoia. Slowly, you rolled it back. Being surprise tackled by the un-sub you were pursuing hadn't done any damage, thankfully. Spencer would've probably put you on bedrest.

"Hotch!" Derek shouted as loudly as he could to be heard around in the front yard of the residential home. The un-sub, a ginger-haired man whose hair had been turned dark brown by water, gasped and choked on chlorine as he broke the surface. The glint of a knife was down at the bottom of the pool. The ten-foot-deep ground pool was large enough for you to feel reasonably secure with the killer floundering.

The other agents that had come with you came rushing from both sides of the house. The un-sub spat out water and cursed colorfully as JJ started to Mirandize him while he doggy paddled towards the edge of the pool. Derek took you by the elbow and led you away from the scene.

"You okay, baby?" He asked in concern, looking deeply into your eyes. You felt blood rushing to your cheeks and choked down a squeaky voice. _He's looking for concussion,_ you scolded your hopeful thoughts.

"'m fine," you answered, apparently unable to speak completely normally to him. You averted your eyes.

Derek took both of your shoulders and turned you back to face him. "You're sure?" He double-checked insistently, stubbornness and fury blazing in his eyes, enraged that someone had dared to attack you.

You nodded, your breath catching.

"Good." The anger left his face and he yanked you in. You lost your footing and stumbled, falling right into your chest. Derek closed his arms around your back and held you tightly. You stabilized yourself with your hands hesitantly against his chest, cheek to his shoulder, and he rubbed a hand firmly up your back. "Because I've been meaning to take you out on an actual date for a while now, and a hospital seems like a lame place to do it."

If at all you were going to choke, it should've been when you had a serial killer body checking you, but _no_ – you were so badass that you were spluttering when you were asked out on a date by the guy you liked.

_Smooth, Y/N. Very smooth._


End file.
